


The fear of failure

by FuryFiction



Series: Thomas & Kocoum [3]
Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryFiction/pseuds/FuryFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Believe me when I tell you this, Thomas - even a warrior with the heart of a bull is afraid of something.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The fear of failure

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Amonute and Matoaka were two of the real Pocahontas's many names.

The idea of children had never really crossed Thomas's mind until he met Amonute and Matoaka. Having children wasn't something that, as far as he was concerned, two men could actually do. For one thing, biology got in the way. And even if that weren’t an issue, children were usually the result of a marriage (if you wanted to be considered morally acceptable.) While he is technically "married" to Kocoum now, he doubts it would be seen as a valid union by anybody outside of Virginia.

But since arriving in the New World, he's had more than enough surprises -- the man he once shot out of fear is now his husband and he's recently been adopted by a raccoon that needs someone new to pester now that Pocahontas spends all her time with John -- so when Kocoum announced that they would be taking in newborn twins, he really shouldn't have been as shocked as he was.   

Neither of them had planned for any of this to happen; one of Kocoum’s cousins had died suddenly after giving birth and knowing that the rest of his family had enough children to worry about, he agreed to adopt her two sons, despite having little to no experience with infants. Fortunately for them both, Thomas knows the odds and ends of looking after babies; he has a little sister back in England and she's about ten years his junior, so he’s had a lot of practice in regards to dealing with little people -- unlike Kocoum, who is the youngest of three brothers and has generally steered clear of small children growing up due to his impatience with their incessant energy. 

It’s strange because, Kocoum could never have imagined having children with Pocahontas, had their betrothal gone forward. He just can’t picture the chief’s daughter remaining at home every day, cleaning and weaving baskets while her husband is away hunting; she’s far too liberated for that. She’s already made it clear to John Smith that she doesn’t have the time for children right now and Smith doesn’t seem to have any objections to her wanting to spend what she has left of her youth frolicking about in the wilderness with her animal companions. 

Thomas, on the other hand, is the physical definition of a home-bird. He never strays too far from the hut – with the exception of the occasional hunting lessons and the nights they spend by the glittering lake while the twins are left in the capable, albeit inept hands of Wiggins (who needs someone else to fuss over now that Ratcliffe has returned to England with his tail between his legs.)

The twins are almost a year old now and delaying sleep with admirable stealth, though Thomas has his own devious methods of coaxing them into bed. Kocoum watches the young man with their eldest, as he kisses the infant's face and tickles his tummy until he squeals with delight. It's wonderful but the warrior still keeps his distance on the furs, always observing and never participating; though he does allow their younger twin to use him as a personal climbing frame for a few uninterrupted minutes.

‘Amonute will do his father’s back in,’ Thomas murmurs fondly, as their elder son, Matoaka, reaches up and carefully grabs a lock of his red hair, tugging it but not hard enough to hurt.

‘His father’s back is as solid as an ox,’ Kocoum replies and he swiftly catches his younger son as the child attempts to sneak onto his shoulders again and brings him close to his face to kiss between his eyes, ‘it will take more than a wicked young cub like you to break it.’

It's these moments that Thomas has to savour, because they never last very long. Kocoum is not neglectful -- he always does his fair share of watching the children when he’s not away hunting and is always the first to wake up in the middle of the night should one of them have an accident in their cradle -- but in comparison to the affectionate Thomas, Kocoum prefers to keep to the side and stand on guard, as if he's expecting a lion to appear out of nowhere.

Thomas brings it up after the twins finally settle and fall asleep, but he receives a strange, blank stare from Kocoum in return. He shouldn’t have expected anything different; after all, it’s his own fault for marrying a man who shows emotion once in a blue moon.

‘I’m not saying it’s a _bad_ thing,’ he graciously attempts to explain, spreading himself out on the furs while Kocoum attempts to make love to him, his large hands resting on the boy’s hips and pulling the furs up to his waist, ‘you just…seem… _off_ with the children at times. I know you find it difficult expressing your feelings and letting your guard down but that's something I can help you with. It's hard work being the breadwinner _and_ a family man at the same time -- _oh Lord_ ,' his eyes squeeze shut as the tip of Kocoum's tongue slips inside him without warning, 'b-but I'm sure with a bit of perseverance you'll be able to juggle both…are you with me, Kocoum?'

He feels the native nod between tasting the little ring of muscle, teasing with the tip of his tongue before slowly licking a large, wet strip that has Thomas whimpering.

'I don't want to sound like I'm nagging-'

Kocoum pauses.

'You know, talking like a river.'

The tongue continues.

'I just want you to be happy,' Thomas's hands move down to tangle into the other man's hair, 'you _are_ happy, aren't you?'

He feels Kocoum's hot breath sigh between his quivering legs and he emits a soft, ' _ooh,_ ' as the native lifts his head and carefully lowers himself on top of the boy, his dark eyes unusually apprehensive as he traces his fingertip over every faint freckle outlining Thomas's cheeks.

'Your father…' he murmurs, bumping their noses together, '…was he always there?'

'Was he always--?' Thomas needs a moment to catch on to what he means, 'well…yes, I suppose. Of course he worked, so I was cared for mostly by my mother when I was a child. But after my sister was born, my father would take me to the factory where he worked and sometimes I assisted him with the machines; I never really liked all the heavy lifting though. My father was always telling me that I needed more meat on my bones and…oh, I'm going off topic, aren't I?'

'Slightly.'

'To answer your question; yes, my father was always there, or at least when he could be. Why do you ask?'

Kocoum's face fills with colour and for a moment he looks embarrassed, 'my father...he never...he wasn't...'

'He wasn't there?'

Kocoum is silent. He moves away from Thomas's legs and turns away from him, tucking his knees under his chin and curling into himself like a bear; for a moment, Thomas is worried he's offended him and he quickly pulls his furs back down so he can put his arms around the larger man. But Kocoum speaks again, softly.

'My father was difficult. A respected man but…he had a heart of stone.'

Thomas is already beginning to understand the roots of Kocoum's stoic manner.

'He wasn't even there when I was born,' the warrior curls tighter when he feels Thomas's lips gently kiss the side of his neck, 'he was always somewhere else and I was left alone with my brothers most of the time.'

'What happened to your father?'

'He was slain in battle,' Kocoum leans back against the smaller body and feels a hand reach up to stroke his long, black hair, 'and my mother…she stopped feeding us after that. Eventually threw herself into the lake and drowned herself. So my eldest brother raised us alone.'

Thomas grimaces, 'I'm so sorry.'

If Kocoum feels any sort of sorrow for his past, he fails to show it; though Thomas is unsure if he is even able to. 'It's hard,' the native says after a long moment of silence, 'it's hard being around the children. I think they scare me.'

Thomas blinks, 'I thought you weren't scared of anything.'

'I'm not scared of storms or snakes like you are -- those are rational fears. But believe me when I tell you this, Thomas - even a warrior with the heart of a bull is afraid of something. I'm afraid of failure,' Kocoum replies honestly, 'of failing you, my people, my children, even myself.'

Thomas rests his chin against his husband's shoulder, 'well, I know for a fact you're not a failure. In any respect - apart from weaving baskets, you're not very good at that-' he hears Kocoum grunt, 'but you're definitely not a failure to me or your children. You took them in, remember? You've given them nothing but love since they arrived in this world,' he scoots around the native until he's crouched in front of him, peering into his dark eyes, 'and you believe me when I say that, don't you?'

Kocoum believes every word that ever comes out of Thomas's mouth; but he finds it difficult telling him so. He makes a clumsy attempt to respond but a finger is swiftly placed against his lips. 'You don't need to say anything,' Thomas purrs, 'but I know the twins would love it if you skipped hunting tomorrow and spent the day with them.' He notes his lover's hesitation and pushes him back onto the furs so he is sprawled on top of him, 'and if you don't know that, you're a fool.'

Finally the warrior smiles, a strange pull of the lips that is awkward but sweetly genuine, 'I'll see if I can persuade Namontak to go without me. And Thomas -- I  _am_ happy. Happier than I've ever been in all my life. I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that.'

Their lips crush together, harder this time and Kocoum slowly drifts back down between Thomas's legs to finish what he started. 


End file.
